


Growing Pains

by QueenEevee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU where you stop aging when you're 24 until you meet your soulmate, Angst, Edit 2: RIP CAN'T BELIEVE I DIDN'T TAG THE DEATHS, Edit: I entirely forgot that Kagehina was a part of this omg, I've had this in my drafts for a year now it's about time I post this, M/M, Minor Character Death, Soulmate AU, lmao don't get your hopes up for Iwaoi this is all angst, this is titled "Oikawa doesn't deserve this" in my docs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10539483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenEevee/pseuds/QueenEevee
Summary: "Oikawa isn’t a day over 24 when he finally gets a new job and moves to a new town. He isn’t a day over 24 when he becomes a volleyball coach for children, determined to teach and help them achieve the dreams he couldn’t. He isn’t a day over 24 when he meets his star pupil with a last name that makes him almost stop breathing.He isn’t a day over 24 because he hasn’t met his destined partner."In which Oikawa learns that he should have just picked up the damn phone and I accidentally wrote a dramatized version of "Hotline Bling" without realizing it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to start this story by saying that yes, I do love Oikawa dearly, however, I also love making him suffer.
> 
> I got the idea for this story from a prompt that was given to me a year ago by my friends Ki and Brokuto and only just now got around to publishing it, so this is dedicated to you guys ^-^ (Any pain you experience can be blamed on them ;3)
> 
> (This is unbeta'd, so if you notice any mistakes PLEASE tell me :D)

**_“It’s weird when you realize the person you once told everything to now has no idea what’s happening in your life.” ~Anonymous_ **

 

~o~o~o~

 

    Back in high school, there wasn’t a day that went by where Oikawa wouldn’t call Iwaizumi.

    One might think it was sort of excessive, considering they lived _right next door to each other_ , but it was a habit, a tradition of sorts at that point, and who was Oikawa to break it?

    So Oikawa called Iwaizumi. Everyday.

    The calls ranged from an invitation to come to his house, to a quick question about the math subject Oikawa might have zoned out and missed half of, advice on whatever issue presented itself, a rant about Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s latest prank, or an announcement about the latest conspiracy documentary that was supposed to play tonight and _You couldn't possibly want to miss it Iwa-chan!_ Whatever the occasion, Oikawa’s phone would end up hot to the touch by the end of the night from overuse and his exasperated parents would have to chew him out yet again about how high the phone bill was by the end of the month.

    But it was a routine that Oikawa wasn’t keen on breaking.

    Back in high school.

    Back in high school, Oikawa couldn’t imagine a future without his best friend by his side. After all, how could he? They had always been together, from childhood to adulthood, through thick and thin, victories and loses, growing up and growing pains.

    Where would Oikawa be without that window that lead directly from his room to Iwaizumi’s, always open for conversations or when nightmares became too hard to deal with and another person was needed to lull either of them back to sleep?

    And as much as Oikawa pretended to hate it, where would he be without someone to keep his ego and attitude in check, to make sure his stress levels didn’t get to the point again where he’d take it out on another?

    (He never forgave himself for what almost happened with Tobio. Iwaizumi forgave for him.)

    He’d probably be where he is now: sitting on a cold, unfamiliar gymnasium, in an unfamiliar college, with little to no friends and tears streaking down his cheeks in a mixture of pain and guilt. They are the only warmth Oikawa feels.

    He’s clutching his knee in a feeble attempt to ease the pain, but to no avail. The injury has gotten worse. He knows that. He knows that and yet he’s still trying to convince himself that he’ll be fine, that someone will find him and take him to a hospital.

    Back in high school, perhaps his prayers would have come true.

    In college, he sits, full of regret and self-hatred and pain. He shouldn’t have left Iwaizumi and Hanamaki and Matsukawa. He shouldn’t have let himself fall out of touch with them, too focused on trying to become the best to direct any of his attention to anything other than school work and volleyball. He shouldn’t have pushed his knee to the back of his mind like it was a papercut, when in reality it could be the end of his career.g

    (He tries not to think about how it could already be the end.)

    His phone lays cold on the floor next to him. He didn’t want to call an ambulance, but he’s aware now that it’s probably his only hope of etting help.

    After all, none of his teammates on his new team were going to arrive. Hell, most of them probably don’t even know he’s here right now. The closeness of his high school team had been left far behind the day he introduced himself to his new teammates. Grunts of acknowledgement were common responses to anything he said, and Oikawa’s boisterous attitude was a nuisance, no longer a source of entertainment. His optimism was “too childish” and the true him, the person that was accepted and loved in high school—the person with peace signs and “Yoohoo~!”’s and a fan club, but most importantly, true, loyal friends—was back at his high school, his Aoba Johsai, like a child left in daycare.

_You can pick them up on your way home from college! Don’t take too long though! They miss you!_

    Now Oikawa was just focused. Focused on beating whatever team they faced against, on beating the other setter that was a constant threat to his starter position, on acing every test and exam that was thrown his way because he had nothing else to do after school but study.

    He knows he’s becoming a different person. He knows and he hates it, but accepts it, because how was he going to fight it? He knows what would fix it, he’s just too stubborn to try.

    And it hurts. It hurts because even though he’s changed, even though he’s worked harder than anyone else on his team or any other team out there, he still lost. His team can’t seem to catch a break, beaten in the second or third round of every tournament by a team with geniuses or raw talent over and over again. That hurts the most.

    It’s the only thing that’s similar to his life back in high school.

    It’s almost humorous how his life parallels his old one. He’s graduating, or he will be soon anyways, and he lost. Lost _again_ , even after changing teams and personalities and he just _can’t seem to win_.

    Which brings him to his current situation. Why he thought practicing until his knee gave out would fix anything, he didn’t know.

    Perhaps he was searching for familiarity.

    He almost considers calling Iwaizumi as a sick joke, a flash of nostalgia, a “Hey we haven’t spoken to each other in over two years but I don’t really have the time to catch up because I’ve hurt myself again please come pick me up”.

    Oikawa may not have spoken to him in over two years, but he knows Iwaizumi would drive a thousand miles to help him, no matter how many years they’ve gone without speaking.

    He doesn’t deserve that kindness.

    “119? I’ve hurt my knee very badly and I can’t walk.”

_He wonders if Iwaizumi has missed hearing the X-files theme song Oikawa set as his own ringtone._

    “Yes, I’m in a lot of pain.”

~o~o~o~

    Oikawa wasn’t sure what was worse: Going to physical therapy, or going to physical therapy alone.

    He had never gone alone before. His parents or Iwaizumi had always been there to support him. But now he doesn’t even have a working knee to support his body weight, let alone emotional support.

    Volleyball’s been reluctantly put on hold until his knee makes a full recovery, but he hears the whispering of the doctors and therapists in the hallways in between his sessions when they think he isn’t paying attention.

    (He’s always had good ears, which has proven to be a helpful trait on the court when he can hear quiet signals from the other team regarding their next play.)

    “This poor boy…”

    “-has been playing this his whole life…”

    “-might never play again…”

    The whispers eat him from the inside out, his inner thoughts in constant turmoil.

_I’ll never beat Ushijima. I’ll never get better than him. I’ll never get to prove him wrong._

_Why did I ever think I’d ever be good enough? Why did I even start volleyball?_

    But Oikawa was never one to give up easily. Stubborn was a compliment.

    He worked through physical therapy for the rest of his college career, and when he was finally discharged with a stable knee, a diploma, and the bad news, he took it all in with a charming, fake smile he had perfected over the years, and immediately signed up for the Olympic trials on the way home.

    (He wasn’t sure what was worse: What would come next, or bearing what would come next alone.)

~o~o~o~

    Iwaizumi hadn’t heard from Oikawa in almost three years. In that meantime, he completed his degree for sport medicines and has dark bags under his eyes to show for it, but he never regretted his career choice. Volleyball was fun in high school, and though he still played it for fun at various parks or beaches, or whenever Hanamaki and Matsukawa invited him up to their place, it was never the same without Oikawa.

    He tried not to think about it.

    He wasn’t sure what made Oikawa suddenly disappear one day. Perhaps school simply became too much for him, and after a while, trying to balance volleyball and friends on top of a degree was too much.

    Or at least, that’s what Iwaizumi told himself, even though Oikawa balanced it perfectly his first year in college.

    He gave him space, knowing that’s what he would want if he disappeared without a reason, but he couldn’t help but wonder and worry and feel like something was missing from his life.

    He hadn’t heard the X-files theme song in three years. The song used to bother him. Now any noise that sounds similar has him absentmindedly picking up his phone.

    Iwaizumi hadn’t heard from Oikawa in almost three years. Which is why, when Oikawa suddenly appeared on the TV for the Olympic volleyball trials, after Iwaizumi was sure Oikawa was finally abducted by his beloved aliens, Iwaizumi was floored.

    Oikawa looked much older, his facial features more defined and his hair longer than before, still laying in loose curls atop his head. The bags under his eyes were darker than Iwaizumi’s own, but the toothy smile on his face was the only thing that reminded Iwaizumi of his old friend.

    (But even after not seeing each other for years, Iwaizumi could still tell a fake smile from a genuine one.)

    He noted his posture was much more serious, and his demeanor no longer had the dramatics and enthusiasm it used to. Perhaps he grew up, Iwaizumi thought, before feeling a drop in his stomach.

    They had always done that together.

    He saw the thick knee brace Oikawa was wearing and involuntarily sucked in a breath. That meant Oikawa had hurt himself recently. But surely if he had grown up, he must have finally learned his own limits.

    The trials went without incident, one game being played after another, players and teams being substituted in and out without hitch.

    Then Oikawa was put in.

    Even with knowing how quickly Oikawa was able to adapt to new teammates, Iwaizumi was almost convinced he had worked with these people his whole life. He felt a burst of pride.

_That’s my setter. That’s my best friend._

    Oikawa was doing phenomenally. His moves were polished and accurate and his skills were more advanced than many of the others. Going to that college must have been good for Oikawa after all. The commentators couldn’t get enough of him and a lot of the dialogue revolved around this “genius setter”. His team won one point after another, after another-

    And then he fell.

    The cameras had perfect timing. After they had realized Oikawa was stealing the show, they started focusing more on him and his movements. In one second, Oikawa was leaping to set the ball, and the next moment, the cameras closed in on his face just in time to see him pale and his eyes widen in pain as he landed. Iwaizumi was glued to the TV in horror.

    Oikawa screamed, collapsing to the floor in a jumble of limbs. The teammate he had just set to took advantage of the confusion and slammed the ball onto the floor of the other side of the court. The slap of the ball was covered by the deafening roar of concern and frantic commentary.

    “-has apparently been going to physical therapy for the past couple months…”

    “-was told he could never play again…”

    Iwaizumi didn’t register that he was holding his breath until a choked gasp escaped his throat.

    Oikawa was rushed off the court, and the last thing Iwaizumi saw before the trials continued was the blank stare on Oikawa’s face, tears making his red cheeks shiny.

    Iwaizumi felt like crying.

    He had seen the effort Oikawa put into trying to get here _firsthand._ He had seen the stress and extra practices and the mumbled words of _I’ll never be good enough._ And yet, here was Oikawa, denied the only thing he had ever wanted his whole life, because of an injury that was caused by him trying to achieve this exact dream.

    What a sick circle of events.

    “Hajime? Are you alright?”

    A light voice full of concern brought Iwaizumi back to the present and Iwaizumi registered his girlfriend’s voice coming from the next room over.

    “I will be.”

    “Are you watching a sad movie?”

    Iwaizumi huffed with amusement. “Mhm, sure.”

    “Which one?”

    Iwaizumi froze, fishing for an answer.

    “Friday Night Lights?”

    “The football one? Well, if it’s going to make you upset, stop watching it! I was worried about you!”

    Iwaizumi smiled and turned off the TV, no longer interested in the Olympics.

    “I couldn’t stop watching it. I just wanted to find out how it would end.”

    Oikawa didn’t make it past the trials.

~o~o~o~

    Oikawa isn’t a day over 24 when he finally gets a new job and moves to a new town. He isn’t a day over 24 when he becomes a volleyball coach for children, determined to teach and help them achieve the dreams he couldn’t. He isn’t a day over 24 when he meets his star pupil with a last name that makes him almost stop breathing.

    He isn’t a day over 24 because he hasn’t met his _destined partner_.

    (Soulmate is a bit of a dead word and makes Oikawa groan every time he hears it. It’s lost its meaning and power through clichés and overuse, but Oikawa hasn’t quite found a better alternative.)

    He was told from a young age that one day he’ll kiss the _love of his life_ and finally start aging again. Everyone stops aging once they’ve reached 24 until they’ve kissed their soulmate and, through some Disney magic, they began aging again in order to spend the rest of their lives together.

    Oikawa thinks it’s a load of crap.

    _Oikawa_ isn’t a day over 24.

    But his star pupil, Yuudai Iwaizumi, has a last name that makes Oikawa feel years older than he really is, what with the memories that come flooding back every time he hears one of the boy’s friends call him “Iwa-chan”.

    (It’s been too many years since he’s called Iwaizumi on the phone. Too many to still grieve over his loss but too long to try and rekindle a lost friendship.)

    Yuudai is a fantastic spiker and Oikawa would laugh at the irony if he wasn’t secretly thrilled that he finally has a student he _knows_ how to motivate and polish.

    Oikawa knows he’ll be a great ace one day. He tells Yuudai this and his eyes light up with pure happiness. He plays his hardest during practice that day.

    The next day Oikawa’s heart stops. Or at least, it feels like it. It would certainly be an easier feeling to explain

    Because instead of the beautiful woman the boy calls his mother dropping him off, Oikawa sees a face he hasn’t seen in years and suddenly he understands the last name and why Yuudai is a natural ace.

    Iwaizumi is taller now, though not by much. He has stubble on his chin and his hair is just as shaky as it was in high school, though Oikawa guessed he finally lay off the hair gel a bit because they aren’t as pointed as before. He’s older now, Oikawa realizes with a pang in his heart. He looks somewhere around his late 20’s, early 30’s and has a surprised look on his matured face.

    “Iwa-chan,” Oikawa finally breathes as he remembers how to speak. Iwaizumi smiles a gentle smile, before a playfully stern expression crosses his face.

    “I’ve told you not to call me that.”

    Oikawa could have cried. Instead he just laughs and smiles back and it’s like nothing has changed even though everything has and Oikawa is only painfully aware of it.

    Iwaizumi’s married now and has a _kid_ ; he has a kid even after all his worries about never being a good enough father. After talking with him for a couple minutes, Oikawa learns that he did go into sports medicine and has a steady, stable job that he loves.

    Oikawa’s all-too aware of the time when the timer for stretches has gone off and practice has officially started, meaning Iwaizumi has to leave. But before Iwaizumi steps away, he looks down and sighs.

    “Back in college...I...I don't know why you stopped calling me but...I would have picked up if you had called again, you know.”

    His smile is sad and his eyes are nostalgic and familiar and Oikawa longs to bury his face in Iwaizumi’s shoulder and forget the world like he used to. He doesn’t. Instead, he nods dumbly and without looking at Iwaizumi’s face, he walks back inside. He’s greeted by Yuudai’s curious face as he looks at the two of them with interest.

    “It’s funny. Whenever I talk about you at dinner, my dad calls you Trashykawa. I’m _pretty sure_ he likes you though?”

    Oikawa thinks Iwaizumi always was accurate with his nicknames.

~o~o~o~

    Remaining the same while the rest of the world passes by you is a surreal experience. Oikawa feels himself getting “older and wiser”, but the same face looks at him in the mirror every morning and night as the years pass by. He watches Yuudai grow up, from a curious child to a fiery teenager with a burning passion for his father’s favorite sport. He watches as old friends finally find the one they’re destined to be with and relish in the feeling of growing old again.

    He watches Kageyama and Hinata make it into the Olympics. He watches them win the gold for Japan. He watches them kiss each other on the field and watches as the crowd coos and ahhs over the “Soulmate Duo”.

    He should be angry. He should be at least bitter about how after everything, Kageyama ended up beating him in life too. The Olympics, his soulmate during out to be his best friend, a victory: He got everything Oikawa wanted.

    Back in high school, he would have been. He probably would have thrown a fit, or at least called up Kageyama with a venomous “Tobio-chan~” and promised to beat him the next time.

    But Oikawa had learned a thing or two from watching the world pass. He figured that even though he’ll never get the life he wanted, the life Kageyama has, he’s glad that someone who has proven again and again that he deserves this life, got it. At this point, he thinks of Kageyama as an extension of himself and prides himself on the thought that he might have helped shape Kageyama a little bit, one way or another.

    (He does end up calling Kageyama, only with a much friendlier “Tobio-chan~”, and tells him to make sure the press knows that it was his darling Oikawa-senpai that taught him everything he knows. Kageyama just laughs and tells him that he and Hinata already mentioned him and the rest of Aoba Johsai in a press conference.)

    Oikawa continues to watch the world spin.

    He attends every single one of Yuudai’s games in middle school and high school. He feels the same pride he did towards Kageyama towards Yuudai, proud that it was him who concentrated those killer skills and motivated the boy into becoming the ace, and eventually the captain.

    He saw, no, sees so much of Iwaizumi in him that it hurts. Every day Oikawa spent training Yuudai, every game he goes to, he sees traces of his old friend, of the boy he loved.

    Every time he goes to Yuudai’s games, he sees Iwaizumi and his wife.

    Oikawa isn’t a day over 24.

    He still feels a pang in his chest when he looks at them and wonders if it ever stops hurting.

    He supposes it’s all part of growing up. It must still hurt because he _isn’t_.

    Yuudai eventually graduates high school with a scholarship for volleyball and no injuries in sight. Oikawa always made sure he took care of himself whenever he had the chance to mentor him and supposes Iwaizumi must have too. Perhaps Oikawa could be blamed for that.

    And the world keeps spinning.

    Yuudai approaches Oikawa his first year of college and practically begs him to be his mentor. Oikawa relents, never being able to say no to him, and in between his own job, he helps him train using knowledge he gained from his university experiences. Yuudai goes on to help his university team win practice match after game after tournament and Oikawa is full of pride and longing.

    Iwaizumi is at every match. Sometimes, he’s with a little girl who bounces up and down every time her brother spikes a ball on the court. He’s always with his wife though. Oikawa notes that he’s always happy, and that soothes him a little.

    He still hasn’t called him. The last time they spoke was when Yuudai was still in Oikawa’s classes, striking up small talk during pickups and drop offs.

    Then come the Olympic trials.

    To no one's surprise, Yuudai makes it on the team, “makes it” being an understatement. He blows the crowd away with his perfected spikes and abilities, bursting at the seams with excitement and evidence of hard-work and practice.

    Oikawa cries when he sees him perform on TV and little does he know, Iwaizumi is doing the same a couple miles away.

    (Oikawa cries harder because of what he couldn’t do. Iwaizumi does the same.)

    Kageyama calls Oikawa a couple weeks later talking about “some kid with Iwaizumi’s surname that won’t stop talking about you and do you happen to know anything about this?” And all Oikawa can do is laugh.

    But the world just seems to want to keep moving, and Yuudai leaves, moving out to be closer to the team and away from his parents.

    Yuudai calls him a couple years later in an excited flurry of words about how he’s finally found his soulmate. Apparently, she’s a big fan of volleyball and came to see one of the games. Yuudai found her so stunning that he couldn’t get any words out and ended up stuttering over an attempt to get her number. Oikawa teases, calling him a Casanova and Yuudai just snorts.

    Oikawa isn’t a day over 24 and the girl’s name is Tsubasa Matsukawa. Oikawa asks who her father is. Yuudai replies that she has two: Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro. Oikawa smiles.

    Apparently Matsukawa and Hanamaki had adopted a daughter and moved to this town a couple years ago. Yuudai calls it fate. Oikawa calls it a small world.

    It’s the first time in many years that a phone call has left his cheek burning and his phone hot from overuse.

    Yuudai and Tsubasa never get married. Yuudai’s never been one for big events, still nervous whenever he has to attend parties or the opening ceremonies for the Olympics, and Tsubasa, ever the activist, simply refuses to get married until it’s legal for her fathers to do the same. When she explains this to Oikawa one day, his heart swells with affection and he tells her how much he loves the idea. The crooked smile she gives him is so much like Hanamaki’s that it’s uncanny.

    A wedding would give Oikawa an excuse to catch up with Matsukawa and Hanamaki again, but even though his heart yearns to at least greet the two again, he’s partially relieved he doesn’t have to attend one. He doesn’t even know what he would say or where to start. How do you use words to apologize for the years of not saying enough?

~o~o~o~

    Yuudai’s Olympic debut feels like it was yesterday. Oikawa supposes this is what happens when you never age, when you never treat each day like it’s one step closer to your last.

    It’s been almost 50 years since that day. A lot happens in 50 years, and Oikawa has begun befriending graveyards and memorizing gravestones.

    The purple hyacinths Oikawa is carrying droop a little as he rests all but one on top of a headstone that reads “Iwaizumi Hajime”. The other goes on top of Iwaizumi’s wife’s headstone, set right next to her husband’s. He sits down on a worn patch of grass right in front of the two and hums a nameless melody.

    He wonders if Iwaizumi ever forgave him for never calling. For never trying to jumpstart their lost friendship again, and instead pouring all of his attention into a son that wasn’t his. Deleting Iwaizumi’s contact name from his worn phone after he received news of his death was probably the hardest thing Oikawa’s ever had to do. Second even to not dialing Iwaizumi’s number the day he got hurt in college.

    What might have come from dialing Iwaizumi’s number? He figures his heart still would have been broken, because no matter how many times he had kissed his long time love, Iwaizumi wouldn’t have been his soulmate.

    (Or, perhaps he might have been. No one knew if it was possible for someone to have more than one soulmate. It was wishful thinking. It was breaking Oikawa’s heart even more. He’d never know.)

    He comforts himself with the fact that even though he never formally apologized to Iwaizumi, he was still able to partially make it up to him in the form of his son. Oikawa had focused every ounce of his being into making sure Yuudai succeeded and that he was always there for him as an apology to Iwaizumi for not doing the same.

    Back in high school, Oikawa couldn’t imagine a future without his best friend by his side.

    Now Oikawa isn’t sure what was worse: watching the world pass by, or watching the world pass by without Iwaizumi in it.

    (Oikawa figures out what’s worse when he receives a teary phone call from Yuudai and has to lay more hyacinths on Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s graves the next year.)

 

 

 

 

    And the world keeps turning.

~o~o~o~

 

**_“The hardest part of growing up is letting go of what you were used to; and moving on with something you’re not.” ~Unknown_ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Have some tiny details that are probably pointless, but I want to share anyways:
> 
> 1\. I literally looked up “Sad sports movies about injuries” for that one scene and the first result was for Friday Night Lights, which is about a football player with a career ending knee injury and I c r i e d  
> 2\. Yuudai means “One who is a great hero” and idk I read that and thought “Ace” and Tsubasa literally means “wing” so it’s a play on the fact that Hanamaki was a wing spiker I'm SO good with names  
> 3\. Purple Hyacinth: Means "I'm sorry" or "Please forgive me"
> 
> Not gonna lie, I lowkey (highkey) really hate my writing style in this, but I hope you enjoyed!! :D Thank you for reading!!


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